


Best friend

by Of_all_the_stars



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Aroace Tim Drake, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Older Sibling Jason Todd, Internalized Aphobia, TDC Unlucky Thirteen 2020, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, prompt: costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_all_the_stars/pseuds/Of_all_the_stars
Summary: Tim could feel his skin crawl all over. He was currently attending another of Bruce's galas and, seeing he was the tender age of 17, all of Gotham's finest seemed to want to try their hand at getting a connection with the famous Waynes. It seemed that every conversation he tried to have would eventually lead into an attempt to set him up with someone's oh so beloved daughter, sister, cousin,related female.He didn't know why it bothered him so much, but it did. It was fine though. He could just keep pretending. It wasfine.***Or: things are not fine, even if Tim refuses to acknowledge how much it is getting to him. It's a good thing his brother is there for him when he finally cracks.
Relationships: Past Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake - Relationship, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47
Collections: TDC's Unlucky Thirteen





	Best friend

**Author's Note:**

> Watch me interpret another one of the prompts from the TDC unlucky thirteen list hella loose lmao. The (internalised) aphobia is really strong in this one though, so if that's a bad topic for you please be careful.
> 
> Edit: I basically made this more readable by finally proofreading it and adding a summary + tags. I also changed the title (used to be _I'll be good_ ) and decided to be nicer to myself (but more about that in the endnotes). Enjoy, I guess.

Tim could feel his skin crawl all over. He was currently attending another of Bruce's galas and, seeing he was the tender age of 17, all of Gotham's finest seemed to want to try their hand at getting a _connection_ with the famous Waynes. And wasn't it just his luck, that besides him being a Wayne, he was also a Drake and CEO of one of the world's biggest companies? So yeah, it seemed that every conversation he tried to have would eventually lead into an attempt to set him up with someone's oh so beloved daughter, sister, cousin, _related female_. 

And sure, this sucked on normal days, but today was already a bad day to begin with and Tim wished they would just _stop_. He would never tell anyone this though, just continued to smile, continued to tell people that that was very _kind_ of them, but at the moment he just wasn’t looking for a relationship. Continued to pretend everything was fine, even if he felt like he could start screaming any moment now. He wouldn’t, of course. Would never do anything that would besmirch the Drake name, the _Wayne_ name. And really, it shouldn’t be such a big deal. Bruce still managed to keep up his playboy Brucie Wayne persona, even after all those years, and he never complained, did he? 

_This is just another job,_ Tim told himself. _This is just another mask you have to put on, another role you have to play. Are you really going to fail now? Are you Robin or not?_

And he was, Robin that is. Well, Red Robin now, but the point still stands. And so, with new fervidity he threw himself back in the crowds, back to the sharks ready to take advantage of his every weakness, his every flaw. 

Good thing Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne had learned to play his role as perfect son ages ago, even before he became Robin.

* * *

The thing was, people started to notice. After his umpteenth gala filled with him turning people down he could practically feel the rumours surrounding him, even more so than they had before. The more positive ones spoke of how he took just after his father, his brother. Always such playboys, who would never be ready to settle down. Because that was just the thing wasn’t it? At this age, Dick had constantly been in the tabloids because of his constant _exploits_ , his _adventures_ , of all the girls he had surrounded himself with. 

The other rumours were… less pleasant. Rumours of how he was hiding a secret, perhaps? Was he, dared they say, gay? After all, why else wouldn’t he want to date anyone. 

Tim wasn’t sure how to feel about these rumours. He wasn’t bothered by being called gay, per sé. He knew it wasn’t true, he did not want to date any boys, so he didn’t really care to pay much attention to those whispers. No, the ones that got to him were the questions of why he wouldn’t just _date_ someone. Because while he didn’t have feelings for boys, he didn’t have feelings for girls either. And wasn’t that just the kicker? The famous Timothy Drake-Wayne didn’t have feelings, he was _broken._

He had tried. He had tried so hard to like someone, _anyone_ , to prove he wasn’t broken. First he had dated Ariana, which ultimately hadn’t led to much. This was fine, everyone said it had just been a puppy love, and what did Tim know, really? Surely they had to be right. But Steph… Steph was different. Tim had wanted so badly to like her. Amazing, bright, bubbly Steph, who was ever so optimistic, despite what life continued to throw at her. And he loved her, he did, but never in the way it mattered, not in the way she loved him. He had felt awful, still did, thinking of the pain he had caused her because of it. And worst of all, she had to be the one to point it out to him. 

‘You don’t really love me, do you?’ She had asked, eyes full of love and understanding, so incredibly _S_ _teph_. And never did she get mad, not as he insisted _he did_ , not as she carefully pointed out how he didn’t, not really. Not as he apologised profusely, tried to promise he would do better. Not as she broke up with him, ever so gently. 

And after that, he hadn't felt his heart break, not the way everyone always said it did, he only felt a cruel sort of _relief_ , and wasn’t that just the most fucked up thing ever? And what did it say about him, if he couldn’t even love someone as fantastic as Steph, if he apparently even couldn’t bring it up to be sad about the breakup? He really was broken, wasn’t he? Just another failure on his part. 

_Maybe this is why your parents didn’t love you,_ the voice in his head whispers. _Maybe they knew you were incapable of love, knew you didn’t deserve love because of it either._

_Maybe it was your own fault all along._

* * *

Above everything, he was glad he and Steph were still friends. Sure, it had been awkward for a while, and yes, maybe he did still feel guilt everytime he thought of their past relationship, but they got closer again nonetheless. Steph even got a new crush and Tim was genuinely happy for her.

It didn't help in his... situation though. Ever since the realisation that he really was broken had gotten through to him, the voice in his head wouldn't shut up. So, he threw himself into his work for Wayne Industries, his work for Red Robin and occasionally into cold cases with next to no leads, anything to distract him. Of all his methods however, patrol was his favourite. There was just something about being able to leave his civilian life behind him, to have to focus solely on the protection of Gotham, instead of on his own problems. And wasn't that weird, how just one piece of fabric, just another mask, another costume, could change people's entire perception of him? Red Robin didn't have to deal with any attempts at being set up with other people. Red Robin didn't deal with annoying voices telling him he was a terrible person either. And so, almost unconsciously he began focusing more and more on his nightly duties, not bothering to notice the worried glances and whispers of his family. When they asked though, they always got the same answer. Tim was fine. Tim was great.

Tim was doing just perfect.

* * *

Everything crashed down when a photo of him as Red Robin and Steph as Spoiler hit the newspapers.

It had been a quiet night, maybe because it had been one of the first cold nights of the year. Either way, Spoiler had complained she was cold, so they had sat down on a rooftop, cuddled next to each other. For the first time in what had felt like forever Tim had taken time for himself, time to just be and talk. It had been nice.

It had all been ruined however, when someone had apparently spotted them sitting like that and had decided to take a picture and sell it to the newspapers. Suddenly everyone was talking about him, about his lovelife again, about his supposed relationship with Steph, Spoiler, _Stephanie_ who didn't deserve this again. 

All Tim could think of was how tired he was. Tired of living in the public eye, tired of only causing hurt to his friends, tired of being different. Why couldn't he just be normal, why couldn't he just love the people he should be loving, why couldn't he just _be_. Why is it so important who he loves why is love painted as such an inevitable and imporant thing why was it so important who he dated to other people why why why.

A knock on his door. A knock that was to be expected, he supposes, with the way he left the cave after being shown the articles. _Well done_ , the Voice lets him know sarcastically. _Now everyone knows something is wrong and they will just be concerned and isn't that all you know how to do? Worry other people?_

Tim mumbles a soft 'shut up', although he isn't quite sure if it's directed at the voice in his head or the person behind the door. Maybe both.

The person behind the door seems to have heard him and gently asks if they can enter. Tim considers. He doesn't have the energy to put up a mask right now, to pretend he's fine. _Would it really be so bad? To let others see past you?_ Yes. No. He doesn't know. He doesn't say anything.

The person seems to take it as an affirmation, and steps inside. It's Jason. Well. Tim hadn't expected that. Usually it's Dick doing the checkups, changed up with the occasional Bruce.

'Hey Timbers, are you good? You made quite the exit just now.' Jason spoke in a casual tone, not sounding that worried. Tim could work with that.

'I'm fine.' _I'm not I'm not I'm not_.

Jason sighs. 'Okay, I was willing to give you a chance, but clearly you're not going to be honest on your own accord. So cut the crap: what's up? And don't say "nothing" because we all know that's not the case.'

Shit. So he hadn't been convincing enough. Was Jason mad? He didn't seem to be. Well, not yet anyway. 

'It's really nothing Jason, I just remembered I had to do something here.'

Tim even managed to smile this time and to make a hand gesture at his room for good measure. Too bad it didn't work, evident by the fact that Jason started ranting. Something about communicating and lack thereof. Tim started zoning out pretty soon, but was brought back by Jason snapping his fingers in front of his face.

‘Hey! Are you even listening?! We fucking care about you okay, and-’

Before Jason could finish his sentence Tim interrupted him. 

‘No, you don’t.’

Jason protested. Tim could see it now, though. Of course they didn’t. After all, he was unable to love, how could he expect them to love him anyway? 

Jason had started another rant and Tim was. so. tired. 

‘YOU CAN’T LOVE ME I’M FUCKING BROKEN OKAY’ Tim shouted, just a bit louder than he intended. 

‘You can’t love me.’ He repeated again, in a more appropriate tone this time. And what choice did he have now than to keep talking? So he did. He explained everything, all the while wondering what would happen now. Would they say he’s lying? Would they send him away? _Would they_? What would he do then? Maybe he could go live in the Tower. 

His friends probably wouldn’t send him away. Or would they? Shit. 

Before he could think about that, he suddenly felt a set of arms being wrapped around him. Oh. Jason? But why would he? His brother began talking.

‘Stop thinking for just one second okay? Stop thinking so much and listen to what I’m about to say next, allright?’ Jason waited until Tim affirmed this with a nod.

‘You aren’t broken. You aren’t broken and you’re not unlovable and your parents sucked but that _wasn’t your fault_. And you deserve love too, no matter what.’

Tim opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly shushed.

‘And you know, to me it sounds like you just don’t feel romantic love. Would you really say you don’t love anybody? That you don’t love Steph, even though it’s not the way you wanted? That you don’t love your little team? You really feel nothing? Because let me tell you something right now. Romantic love isn’t the only type of love there is. Platonic love is just as important, if not more, okay? And besides, not feeling romantic love is completely normal, fuck everyone who says otherwise. Of course I can’t assign you anything, but I think you should try to look into aspec and arospec identities.’

Tim’s brain whirred, having difficulty processing Jason’s words. So he tried to do what he knew best knew how to do: gather more information. A grab for his laptop was quickly stopped by Jason however, who held it just out of his reach and tutted. 

‘No you don’t. What you need to do right now, is go the fuck to sleep. I can feel the exhaustion radiating off of you. Tomorrow is a perfectly good day to learn new things too. For now you just need to know that you are loved. Dick loves you, B loves you even when he is awful at showing it. Hell, even the brat loves you, although hell would probably freeze over before he’d admit it. And me too, I guess. You have come so far, and we’re all very proud of you. You don’t have to throw it all away, okay? You’re good enough as you are. Now. Sleep.’ 

Tim did. The next week would be filled with countless google searches, learning new terms, reading people’s experiences so _so_ similar to his. Eventually, he would find the term ‘AroAce’ and be overcome with a sense of _correctness_. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne would know that he wasn’t alone, that he was good as was, and although it was still a work in process sometimes, he would know that he was loved. 

But for now, he just falls asleep, feeling safe under his brother's watch.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be honest with you, I didn't really like this fic and I have avoided looking at it ever since I wrote and posted it (which as of now, is literally 3 months ago already), but it might be because of the high expectations I put on myself? I wanted this fic to really represent an important aroace perspective, but I ended up getting really frustrated when I couldn't express myself like I wanted to. However, I have decided that, even if I personally don't like it, it might still resonate with people, and if it helps them feeling seen then that is most important. I might come back to this one day, rewrite it the way I originally wanted to, but for now (or maybe forever, who knows) this is okay too. (But if you want to read an aroace fic of mine I actually kind of like, have [this ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863867))
> 
> Anyway, if you're aroace and reading this, know that you are loved. There is _nothing_ wrong with you, I promise. You are not broken, or exaggerating, or whatever they try to tell you. You are so valid, perfect the way you are. And if you're doubting it and want to talk about it to someone who understand, or if you just want to talk in general, please do not hesitate to message me on [Tumblr ](https://firebirds.tumblr.com/).


End file.
